As I sit here at my desk wondering how long this staying at home is going to last, I’m looking at the pictures I have on my wall. I see them of course, every day, but I don’t actually see them.

I find just siting and looking at them, letting the image enter my mind rather than letting it just flash in and out of my brain. I can close my eyes and let my mind go back to when I took them; the whole day comes back to me in sharp focus.

I have pictures on my wall from the Grand Canyon, Africa, Panama, Costa Rica and the Amazon. Each time I concentrate on one of them, my mind goes back to the actual instant when I took the picture; I can see in my mind all the things that were around me.

I see the entire water hole that the bird was sitting in; I see the tree that the birds had the nest in. It’s all in my mind and the pictures bring back the entire experience so I can enjoy it again. Looking at the picture and letting my mind go free (which, as I get older could be disastrous, it might not come back), I can relive my adventures.

It’s amazing what the mind holds in the brain. We are mostly unaware that our past is so well stored. It is like having it stored in the cloud and forgetting the passwords.

Our past is still living deep in some crevasse of our brain. It is frustrating trying to bring a memory back out for us to enjoy without the password. The triggers to our memory take many different forms. The key to open a memory might be just a word that somebody says or perhaps a story that they are telling. It could be an odor that brings back memories. In my case the photos on my walls do a great job of parting the clouds. Each one takes me back to some point in my life of wonder. I am reminded of how incredible this planet I call home is, and how fortunate I am to be allowed to explore it. I have been given health, political freedom, and enough money and opportunity to live as a wandering wonderer. I love my country

My new book volume II, leans more into what it takes to try many different things. I try to show the kind of effort it takes to see how good you are at something and how important it is to give your best effort, or you will never know.

If you find you’re not good at something, it’s alright, you have learned something. That’s the only way for you to find what you’re good at. I’ve tried many things. I gave each one my very best effort. I was never the best at any of them, but with enough effort, could generally be pretty good. When I got good at something, this was the signal for me to try something new. I was proud of my accomplishment and moved on before I got complacent, to a different skill to learn. When you are doing something that is simple for you to do, you’re not learning anything.

My new book, volume II, is based on that premise.  My parents, when I was very young, taught me a lesson that I didn’t realize until I was an adult. I wondered where I got this idea that, “The world is a classroom. All you have to do is be a good student to get a good education.”

My parents were poor and never thought I would be able to go to college, so they taught me, as I grew up, how they had learned. I was constantly asked, almost every day, “What did you learn today?” Then we would discuss whatever I came up with. Many days I didn’t know what I learned until my mother started asking questions about what I had done. I realized all the little things I had not paid any attention to which had something to teach me.

Well here I am, 85 years old and still learning from the world around me, every day. A good example is what I learned from the birds of Indio, Ca.  I want to pass on a little important lesson I learned from them.

I was sitting at the table on my small patio of the second floor where my lady-friend, Karin, and I were staying.  It is one of my time shares. We like feeding the birds, so I buy bird seed and put it in a plate on the patio wherever we’re staying. On this trip I took an aluminum pie plate to feed the birds in. It was shiny, something the birds had never seen before.

I filled it with food and the birds came onto the railing and looked down at it. Some came down and walked to within a foot or so from the plate, then flew away. They kept coming back but just couldn’t bring themselves to get in the plate and eat. They were afraid. The shiny pie pan was an unknown to them. None of them were brave enough to see what it was, even though they really wanted the food in it.

Karin and I talked about it. How very much like humans they were.

How many times have you wanted something in your life, that was there, but you were too timid for some reason to do it or to take it? The birds were missing out on a fine meal of high-quality bird food, because they were frightened of the unknown.

I can only hope that the next time I encounter a situation where I feel uncomfortable, inadequate, or for any other reason, consider passing up a good thing, I will remember the birds of Indio and just go for it.

Like everyone else I have been stuck at home for weeks now and have had a lot of time to just think. How has this new normal affected me? It is interesting the mood swings I have gone through. At first, I thought it was no big deal, just an inconvenience for a while.

I was in Alabama visiting my family when it all started the first week in March. Everything shut down so fast that I wasn’t sure I was going to get home. On my flights home there were only eight people on the first flight, Birmingham to Houston; only 35 on a big plane from Houston to Orange County. That is when I realized this was a bigger deal than I had first thought.

When I got home, Karin made me go directly to the shower and put all my clothes in the washing machine before I could give her a hug. That’s when I wondered, (I am a wonderer), what the hell is going on? I had not been watching TV at all.

Now many weeks into what’s going on, I’m still not sure. I have been basically on lockdown – house bound. All my reservations for March, April, May, and June were canceled by the resorts where I was booked for two weeks each month.

I didn’t get angry, as a biologist I understood the problem. The media has scared the bejesus out of everybody. We are not all going to die. Knowing what we know now about the problem we could open the entire country up if all the population would just follow the rules established to prevent the spread of the virus. They work!

I watch the protesters, not wearing masks, mobbed all together, carrying their signs to open things up, and I can’t help thinking, how stupid can these people be? They are involved in an activity that prolongs what they are protesting. Are they really that ignorant or do they just not give a poopoo for anyone but themselves?

Through the frustration that I have felt as time passes there are some good thing that have entered my life because of this chaos. I have watched a pair of Nuthatch birds build a nest in my patio, I work out every day instead of three days a week, and I have time to enjoy the flowers that are in my green-belt where the rabbits and squirrels live. If you are old enough to remember the children’s story of Ferdinand the Bull that wouldn’t fight in the ring because all he wanted to do was smell the flowers. That’s what I’ve become. I have learned to Hang Loose.

It is amazing how some things that seemed important in my life have become unimportant, and things that were important to me as a young person have reentered my life. For example, I no longer care much about what’s going on in the sports world but want to be more tuned in to what everyone in my family is doing. My family has become the rock in my life, again, like it was when I was growing up. I feel I don’t need all the other stuff that has surrounded me as an adult. Is that good, or bad? I don’t know, perhaps, time will tell.

I apologize for neglecting my blog for over a year but, of course, I have a good excuse, at least it is the best one I can come up with. To maintain a blog, it takes thinking and time. Last year was an off-the-wall year for Karin and me. Karin had three heart operations, a couple of stents and a new valve.  I had two leg operations to clear clots in the arteries.

Our time was used up in hospitals and going to doctor appointments and the mind was too occupied to think much. We are both back to exercising and working at being healthy again. Looking back on it, it was an excellent year of body repair and now we are good to go, for another decade!

As 2020 is now rapidly passing us by and includes Social Distancing, we have decided to reevaluate our mode of operation in the planning of the year’s travel. All of our trips we had planned for March, April, May and June were cancelled. We will be staying close to home in Oceanside for about two weeks in July, and may take a road trip around California to see our families that are in central California.

Oceanside and Indio have become our second and third homes. They are only an hour or two from the Laguna area where we live and both are full resorts with everything you could want right there.

We have made another change in our lives. Karin has invited me to move into her house. I am renting my condo and have a new man cave in one of Karin’s bedrooms. We believe it is the best arrangement for us.  I know that our children are happy about it because they all worried about us living alone. I’ve fallen down the stairs twice, but it was ok I didn’t bleed on anything. Karin has needed a few quick rides to the ER just to keep them on their toes in case she ever really needs them.

We did not make any new year’s resolutions this year. We decided to choose a word that we could use to evaluate all of our activities in 2020. Karin’s word is JOY- will it bring joy to her or someone else? My word is HAPPY- will it make me or someone else happy? It makes our choices in life much easier and is working well for us.

 

I am still writing, it makes me happy and I hope, occasionally someone else. I have two new books being published this year. Karin is working on one that should be out in 2021. Karin and I still each have our own paths to follow and support each other in them.

 

Till next time, stay close to home, wear a mask where necessary and remember, Patience is a virtue, but don’t be too virtuous or you won’t get anything done.     

 

 

Realizations while in Banff. #1

The white puffy clouds float by overhead in a sea of brilliant blue sky.

Our spirits, like the lofting black peaks around us, seem to be reaching/searching for the tranquility of that vermilion sea.

The raindrops falling gently on our upturned faces are proof that it is really there, and not just a dream.

Peace, tranquility and love are all around us, as the trees sing their songs, and their leaves do a dance to the wind.

Our very souls are revived and we realize that the entire Earth is alive around us. Even as I hold your hand, the trees are growing, the ocean is rising, and the continents are moving.

We are blessed to be part of this incomprehensible scheme which we try so hard to understand.

Perhaps some time in the future, the eagle soaring through the sky above will explain it all to us.

Until then, we must cherish what we have and care for it, as well as each other, the best we can, never forgetting in our hearts the big picture and that we are an important part of it.

 

Realizations while in Banff. #2

As I look out at the forest on the other side of my window, I realized there is a similarity between my life, and probably yours also, with the life of the trees.

There are young ones that are all green and bushy and very much alive and older ones that are straight and tall with no branches on the trunks as they reach for the sky but still have a lot of green at the top.

It seems the tree is really alive only at the top and has forgotten all the life it had growing up. I think we sometimes forget our past and don’t give it the credit it deserves.

Like the trunk of the tree, our past is our foundation – without it we would have no future. We are living the life our past has trained us to live. There is almost nothing we do today that we did not learn to do in the past.

It is true that the only things that will be difficult in our future are the things we have not yet learned to do in our past.

Today is your past for tomorrow, strive to learn something new every day – so your future will be more interesting than difficult.

 

Realizations while in Banff. #3

On our drive from Canmore, Canada, to see the Columbia Glacier field in Jasper Park, we encountered more tour buses than I could keep track of. It seemed every place we stopped there were at least 40 people milling around that were either coming from, or going back to, one of the 60 passenger buses.

They were always in a hurry because the buses didn’t stop very long at each place and everyone wanted their spot at the railing to photograph the views. Most of them were from faraway places and were as amazed at what they were seeing as we were, but as I sat and watched them fighting for their spot at the rail, I had mixed emotions.

First I was irritated when they pushed in front of me, but as I watched them at all the places we stopped during the day, they didn’t bother me anymore.

I was happy for them to be able to travel here and share the beauty with me. I was sad for them for not having the time to just sit, like Karin and me, so they could absorb what could not be seen, but only felt, for that is what creeps into your soul and is life changing about this place.

The photos I have taken will remind us, and show others, where we were, but only our inner-self can feel the communication we felt with nature, as we sat quietly on the benches around the park, and will have with us for a lifetime.

 

 

 

Have you ever given much thought to why you are who/what you are? Why you are in the line of work your in? Did you follow your passion or was the job just there and you adjusted your life to fit it? Why you chose the friends you have? What is it about them that makes you want to keep a friendship with them? Many people never ask themselves those questions. When we really think about them, and are honest with ourselves, it can be rather scary.

Where did you get the ideas to do the things you do? It is said that there are no new ideas, and everything you do has been done before by someone-some place-at some time. When we are born we have no idea what we want to do, somewhere along the line we have to get an idea that we act on and that becomes our path to whatever/whoever we become. Where did your idea come from?

Who we are is a good question because it has three answers for each of us. We are the person we think we are, (our own self-image, love it or hate it, it’s your choice). We are the person others think we are, (to them it’s their guide as to how they treat us). It only stands to reason that the person we really are is somewhere between the other two. Our self-image is what we strive to maintain and nourish with the choices we make in life. My mother coached me as I grew up, choose your friend carefully. Don’t judge them by what they say, but rather by who their friends are, because your friends are a mirror of who you really are.

As I meditate on my own life I realize many people set me on the path that led me to my computer to write this blog. There was the man fishing in the surf when I was five years old, and very excited, and frustrated, because I didn’t know what kind of fish I had just caught that set me on the path to be a teacher. I wrote about it in my book, (Life, according to Grandpa – The Fish).

A few years later five unknown boys narrowed my path to the ocean and an unknown news photographer made a mistake in an article he wrote. His mistake took me on an unrelated side road that totally changed and refocused my path in life for a few years. I returned to my original path because I realized that it was my passion and made it my freeway to a life worthwhile, and more fun than anyone deserves.

These people, (and many more), were my guides/inspiration that kept me on my path, and are responsible for who I am today. I wonder when and where I will meet my next guide and where he/she will lead me. There are so many doors in life that I have not yet opened and I’m excited with the expectation of what lies ahead.

I was fortunate, (1958), to walk with Sir Edmond Hillary on a hike in the Antarctic, and I vividly remember his words, “To rest is not to conquer”. I have not rested since that hike, and have no plans of resting in the future.

As I was watching and listened to President Trump give his speech at Arlington Cemetery today it brought back memories which I had buried somewhere in my memory archives, and pushed them to the front of my brain. I had to ask myself, why do we have wars? Everyone seems to have their own opinion based on their background. To me the reasons for most of the worlds’ wars fall into conflicts to do with territory, religion, and fear.

Looking even closer, most conflicts have to do with fear. We all have fear of being forced to lose any of these, our territory, our religion, or our freedom. We don’t want to lose anything we have, and fear not being able to get anything we think we need.

The country leaders treat war like a game. They decide what moves we must make to mitigate these fears. The militaries are pieces that move where the leaders tell them, like pieces on a chess board. It’s a giant board game to the ones orchestrating it. The difference is people suffer and die playing it. So why do they volunteer?

Why do we volunteer to possibly lay down our lives so the leaders can play the game of war? The answer is simple, fear. The soldier is driven by fear, not for themselves, but for the ones they love more than themselves. The families and friends that are at home. Who else is so important to them that they would put themselves in harm’s way?

They don’t hate or fear the enemy in front of them, they fight because they love and fear for the ones behind them. When the fears are alleviated, enemies become friends. We Americans are friends now with the Japanese and the Germans, who were once our greatest enemies. We don’t fear each other anymore.

When I take my walks late at night in the solitude of the darkness, things that I normally am able to suppress, seem to float back into my pondering, and I realize I don’t cry for the dead; I do, however, cry for the ones that were not part of the game and bore the suffering caused by it.

The wives that never had a hug from their husbands again, the children that never knew the love of a father, the parents that grew old and died without their son/daughter there to take care of them and say goodbye to, and the ones that came home and were severely handicapped the rest of their lives. These are the ones that truly suffer from wars. I still cry for them.

 

It was over, VJ Day. Japan had surrendered. There were people dancing in the street and singing songs in the park. I was 10 years old and running around with my friends, having a grand time celebrating, when I heard a car screech to a halt behind me. I turned around to be devastated – my dog, running behind us, had been run over by a car. Being an only child and spending a lot of time on our farm with no one else around, my dog Patsy, was my best and loyalist friend. In an instant my happiness had been torn from me.

She writhing in pain as I carried her broken and smashed body to my house a block away. She was beyond repair and died in my arms before I arrived home. I was crying all the way, I could feel her pain. When I reached home, my mother and father were as overwhelmed with emotion as I was. We cried together. Patsy was their second child. She had been with us since before I could remember – she was my sister.

My mother asked me when she died. I told her a few minutes before I got her home. Then she said something I never forgot, “We can be happy it was fast and she didn’t have to suffer long.” Only a mother could bring joy to such a situation. It was a lesson that was filed away in the back of my brain, and I thought forgotten.

Seventy years later, unfortunately, I had cause to remember it. My wife was fighting cancer. She reached the stage where she collapsed one morning. The 911 respondents admitted her to the hospital and the doctors told her, and the family, that there was nothing more they could do, except keep her alive hooked up to machines. She said, “No more treatments, let me go. I’m ready.”

We did as she wished. The doctors unplugged the machines. It took her three hours to die, as the family stood at her bedside, and I sat next to the bed, holding her hand.

I could hear my mother’s words from the past, and they gave me comfort in my world of loss. I was truly thankful when the machine finally flat-lined, and I kissed my wife goodbye on the forehead, that after a year of struggling, she was no longer in pain.

I planed a trip to the Olympic Peninsula in Washington State, to visit some of the friends I left behind when I moved back to California after living in Washington for 23 years. I was asked, “Why are you doing that?”

My off-the-cuff answer was, “I don’t know, I just want to see them again.”

Their reply was, “They are not part of your life anymore, why spend the money and the time to go back?”

I just said, “Because I want to.” I couldn’t think of anything else to say.

When I arrived in Port Ludlow, where I had spent those 23 years I saw 13 different people and still missed some. I only had five days. One day I drove down to the harbor where I had stored my kayak and ate my lunch. By myself, sitting on a bench, looking out at the placid water, my mind wandered onto the question. Why am I here? This isn’t my world any more.

Why would I buy a plane ticket to Seattle, rent a car, and drive over here? Why would I make such an effort to see people that are no longer a part of my active life? I looked out at the bay and told it, I do it because they are my friends. Then the big question, what is a friend?

In my world, (and I realize I am speaking only for my world), a friend is someone that I trust, admire, enjoy being with, and I consider to be a “good” person, (whatever that means). I have friends I have known for 65 years, and I have friends that I only had contact with for a few days. As I sat looking out over the harbor I realized I had over a hundred people I called friends and wondered if they considered me one of their friends. I hoped they did, but I still hadn’t answered the question of why I was here.

It suddenly became crystal clear. I needed them. They reminded me of how good my life was, and still is, because of what they taught me during some segment of my life. They and all the other “friends” helped to guide me on the path I have taken in life that has made me who I am today and who I will become tomorrow.

My visiting is a small way of saying “Thank you for being my friend”. There are a number of my friends that have left us and are no longer available to visit with. I talk to them when I am walking late at night. I sit on a bench to absorb the beauty of the sky over my head, and I thank my invisible friends for sharing their new home with me and for reminding me that possibilities are as unlimited as the Universe.

It is then that I realize that all my friends are still a significant part of who I am.

Karin gave me the trip to Death Valley as a Christmas present. We waited till February to take it so we would have the right weather to survive it. I had driven through it before on my way to Las Vegas. I wasn’t impressed. I saw it as a desolate landscape that stretched for a hundred miles and not much more. This trip definitely proved me wrong.  This trip was only three days, one day to get there, one to explore, and one to drive home – It’s a seven hour drive.

Death Valley is a place to EXPERIENCE, not just visit. If you just drive through it you can’t absorb its vastness, and the extraordinary geology that engulfs you, as you negotiate the roads that the park has placed in all the right places to make it visible to us. I had fun on the trip because Karin and I always have fun together, but the terrain is not fun – However it seems to seep into your very persona, and I’m sure it will stay with you for the rest of your life. Go with someone you can have fun with too.

There are colors protruding out of the mountains that are incredible.

John at the lowest place, -282 feet, and Karin, doing what she does best, having fun.

Karin lived in France for a while – She got good at it. She is teaching me. I love it.

Notice the hikers in the lower left corner. We weren’t able to do that, my walker said no!

It’s fun looking at the rocks and trying to find an image. What do you see?

 I don’t know what it is, but it sure looks mean. I’m sure it was protecting us.

 Daddy and mommy rock out for a walk, with the two kids and a few friends.

Life is good, but you have to look for, and see, the wonderful things around us.